Distractions
by Brightleaf
Summary: Enjolras is helping Grantaire study... or at least that had been the original plan. E/R, modern AU, fluff


Hey... here I am again, with my first piece of attempted E/R fluff... I would love to get some feedback. If you spot any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes please PM me - English is not my first language, so there will be some mistakes, and if you tell me which mistakes I have made, I'll correct them as soon as possible. Thanks :)

**Credits:** Credits go to a good friend of mine who inspired me to write this story.

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Grantaire nor Enjolras (although I wish I did. Life is so unfair!) since they belong to the wonderful Victor Hugo. I am not making money with this story.

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**Distractions**

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In retrospect Enjolras wasn't sure why he had agreed to study with Grantaire. Much as he loved his friend – that is, most of the time – he was a hopeless case where history was concerned. Not that he didn't want to help him, he was Marcellin Enjolras after all, helping others was just what he did. But studying with Grantaire stepped over the boundaries of normal social cooperativeness.

It all began with Grantaire being late for their study date. Enjolras was already waiting for half an hour, getting more annoyed with every second that passed, when his mobile phone announced that he had a new text message.

[**GRANTAIRE** wrote at 14:32]: _sry, i'll b urs in 10_

Then, once he finally had arrived at Enjolras' flat, he announced that he had forgotten to bring his notes. Enjolras thought that his notes probably weren't complete anyway, or, even more likely, that he didn't have any at all.  
At least Grantaire wasn't drunk, as far as Enjolras could tell.

"So" he said when the two of them had sat down in Enjolras' living room, each of them a huge mug of coffee in front of him. "Tell me, which chapters have you already revised?"

It turned out that Grantaire hadn't even started to study. Enjolras felt the anger he had first started to feel when Grantaire had been late, slowly rising. The exam they had to study for was already in the following week, and it was an important one. He didn't know how Grantaire expected to pass it.  
Then again, he didn't understand why Grantaire had chosen that history class in the first place, anyway. He wasn't very interested in history, nor did he pretend that it held any interest for him. He spent most of his time during the classes either asleep or trying to talk to Enjolras, which Enjolras found really disconcerting and annoying. But perhaps Grantaire's lack of attentiveness didn't have anything to do with the class, Enjolras didn't know how Grantaire behaved in his other classes, since History was the only class they had together.  
For Enjolras, who was reading Political Science, it was obligatory, while Grantaire, who was majoring in Art, had chosen it out of his own free will – just why?!

Sighing and more than just a little unnerved he began with one of the major topics they had discussed in their class – the French Revolution. He started by telling Grantaire everything that he knew about it, which, in Enjolras' case, was rather a lot. He may or may not have told the tale a bit subjectively, but he made up for it by radiating with a fiery passion and confidence, as he always did when talking about social injustices.  
"… and as a result of this the courageous people stormed the Bastille to finally gain their freedom, killing everyone who stood in their way of overthrowing the regime and escaping the injustice of oppression." he finished his rant and looked at Grantaire expectantly. He found him staring dreamily at him.  
"Grantaire?" he prompted. Grantaire seemed to snap out of a daydream. Enjolras raised his eyebrows and asked annoyed: "Did you get anything out of what I just told you?"

Grantaire smiled sheepishly. "Uhm… no. But Enjy…"  
"No" said Enjolras and felt himself losing his patience. He took a deep breath and tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice as he spoke. "Alright, let's do it again. The people were oppressed by the regime for eternities. The few rich people there were, the royals, kept everything for themselves, not bothering to give anything away in order to help the poor in the country, which was 99% of the French population. They didn't even have enough to feed their children. They were sick, they were hungry, they were suffering, they were miserable, they were…"  
"Look, Enjy, a bird!"

Enjolras closed his eyes and tried hard not to lose his temper. "Yes Grantaire, that's all very fine. Now…"  
"But Enjolras!" Grantaire interrupted, _again_. "Don't you think it's beautiful? I think it's a pretty bird."  
This time Enjolras didn't even put any effort into keeping the annoyance out of his voice. "Yes, yes, very beautiful. Now can we _please_ go on?!" he said impatiently.  
"But Enjolras," Grantaire pouted, showing off his perfect lips in a way that was entirely unfair. "You didn't even look!"  
Enjolras took another deep breath and looked at the spot Grantaire was pointing at. There, outside in the garden, in front of the window in his living room, was indeed a bird. It looked pretty ordinary to Enjolras, but to make Grantaire shut up about it he said: "Yes, yes, very beautiful. Now where were we?"  
Grantaire beamed at him in a way that made him forget all about the French revolution for a moment. But just a second later he was fully focused again.  
"Right. They wanted to escape oppression, to overthrow the injustice of the regime. So in 17…"

"By the way, did I tell you that I got an offer to present two of my paintings in an exhibition that opens in autumn?" interrupted Grantaire with the most innocent smile, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes that Enjolras somehow missed.  
"Really? Oh, Grantaire, that's wonder- NO! We've really got to study history now. I don't have the feeling that you are taking this seriously!" said Enjolras, really angry this time.  
Then Grantaire looked at him with a hurt look on his face and that damn pout of his. "But I am so proud of it!" he said sadly. "Aren't you proud of me, too, Enjy? You aren't proud of me, I know it!"  
He looked so vulnerable, hurt and disappointed, in a way childlike, so that Enjolras felt the immediate wish to comfort him. "Of course I am proud of you, 'Taire.", he said gently and Grantaire's eyes lit up.  
"But now" he tried to give a firm edge to his voice "we really have to study."

He looked at Grantaire sternly, and his friend nodded obediently in response. With a smile, Enjolras started talking again. "So the people decided to take their fate into their own hands. They started planning a revolution to gloriously overthrow the regime and get rid of the royals who deprived them of even the simplest means to survive. They had a vision! They felt they could change their lives, they could make a difference, they could…"

He stopped abruptly in his speech when he felt Grantaire's lips on his. The first sensation that surged through him was shock, but he couldn't deny the warm pleasant feeling this kiss caused in him. The shock that had made him unable to move at first faded when he felt that Grantaire was about to pull back. Unable to resist the undeniable rightness of this kiss, he tentatively but unhesitatingly kissed back. It was beyond perfect.  
Needless to say that neither of them spared history another thought that afternoon.


End file.
